Fragments
by Rach L
Summary: Through a series of events, John Carter and Jing-Mei Chen reach a point where they have to examine their longtime friendship.
1. Regrets

Fragments  
by Rach L.  
rach_jiwon@hotmail.com  
  
Rate: PG to R  
Summary: Through a series of events, John Carter and Jing-Mei Chen reach a point where they have to examine their longtime friendship.  
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.   
Note: Not beta'ed. I have no idea what got me to start this one, but here it is. Hopefully it's not too sentimental.   
  
  
Part 1: Regrets ('April Showers')  
***  
'How many times can a man turn his head,  
and pretend that he just doesn't see?'  
--Bob Dylan, "Blowing in the Wind"  
***  
  
Jing-Mei stepped into the hospital parking lot, feeling the cool wind against her skin. It was just like any other night. The shift ended quickly, and she would now go home, eat dinner, and watch the prime time TV all alone except for the picture of the beautiful child she'd given up.  
  
'Do you regret it?'   
  
At the end of a day, a whispering voice always asked her the same question. So far, she hadn't been able to answer it.  
  
She was walking toward her car, fumbling with her purse to find the keys, when she spotted a dark figure in the shadow leaning against the wall.  
  
"John?" she asked in surprise, "What are you doing?"  
  
The crouched figure of her friend straightened up, startled. "Deb? Oh. I was just..." he paused, as if he wasn't sure how to answer, "...hanging."  
  
For a moment, she wondered what to do. Was she supposed to join him when he was clearly involved in his solitary mood on his own? And frankly, even now she was offended by how he'd treated her after she'd come back from her maternal leave. He had acted like as if she didn't know even the basic ER procedure, and that still angered her. She knew he'd been only trying to protect her in his own way, but he had not even once considered that his actions might hurt her feelings. However good his intentions might have been, she hadn't been in the mood to talk to him lately.  
  
But what kind of a friend would she be if she would just pass him without even saying hello?  
  
"You look like hell," she commented as she approached him, trying to feign a cheerful voice. When she glanced down, she saw a few burnt out cigarette pieces at his feet. "No wonder." She shot him a disapproving look.  
  
He gave her a broad grin that would've melted almost every female with eyes, but she was used to it. She'd observed the effect of that particular smile from the medical school, and she was determined not to give in to it. Seeing she wasn't going to let him go on this one, he reluctantly told her, "Just felt like it at the moment."  
  
She slowly took in his disheveled appearance. She remembered seeing him going to Doctor Greene's wedding with Rena. He looked fine then, even excited, but right now he looked just the opposite. She briefly wondered what could possibly have happened to darken his mood, and reached out her hand to him. "Do you have one to spare?"   
  
He arched his eyebrow. "Since when do you smoke?"  
  
"Since you're obviously taking a great joy in it," she replied levelheadedly, "If it's that good, I'll have to test it myself. I'd like to know if it's worth endangering your health. Give it to me."  
  
"Right, right," he put up his hands, gesturing surrender, "I'm quitting, Doctor Chen."  
  
Her hand was still stretched out, her chin high. "You'll have to prove it."  
  
He met her eyes for a second, then sighed. "Unfair. You always win." He obviously didn't want to, but he took out a cigarette pack from his pocket with his lighter and handed them to her.   
  
Only after she threw them into a garbage can nearby, she turned to him with a small smile. "So," she began, standing at his side against the wall, "Are you going to tell me why you were drowning yourself in misery, or shall I just go home and forget what happened here?"  
  
He was silent for a long moment. When she was about to conclude that he wasn't in the mood to talk and began considering leaving, he spoke again, "Do you have to go home? Can you...stay for a while?"  
  
She was rather surprised. She had known him for a long time, and had seen him in many different moods, but not once he'd looked so vulnerable like this, not even after he'd been stabbed with a terrible consequence.  
  
"Okay," she answered quietly. "I'll stay."  
  
They stayed like that for a while, both leaning against the wall, saying nothing. She observed the surroundings absently. April was already over, but the night air was still cool. The sky was clouded, and the lights reflected in the cloud glowed dimly in red. For that moment, everything seemed to be silent. The Wind City at night. She never thought it'd look this beautiful from an empty parking lot.   
  
"Mark and Doctor Corday looked really happy," John said finally.  
  
She didn't say anything, and only waited for him to continue.  
  
"And I was...envious."  
  
Suddenly the fog inside her head was beginning to lift. "Because you are not...happy." She almost added 'Join the club', but she stopped herself in time. She wasn't one who could be heartlessly cynical about another's unhappiness.  
  
He answered, his eyes on a faraway place, "Probably."   
  
"What brought this on?" she couldn't help but ask, "I thought you were settling in quite nicely. I thought things were going well with Rena."  
  
He faced her, shaking his head slightly. "It's not that...serious with her. Not yet, at least."  
  
Right. And *when* had he been serious about relationships? As far as she knew, John still acted boyish about a lot of things, and having a relationship was one of them. "Figures," she told him playfully, "You're always onto glorious blonde types."  
  
"Not true. I had a crush on you back in the school years, and you are not a blonde, as you know." He smiled impishly.  
  
She snorted. "I don't believe you. I was way too much of a brat, all too competitive. And you, as a certified brat yourself, never fell for another fellow brat."  
  
"Oh but I did," his eyes glowed with mischief, "You had the look and the brain. Who could not resist such a combination?"  
  
He was teasing her, she knew, but it didn't feel that bad. He really *was* good at flirting. "I have to compliment on your flattering skill, but avoiding the topic can only go so far." She met his eyes, and inquired gently, "What makes you so unhappy, John?" She genuinely wanted to know.  
  
She hadn't really expected him to answer, but to her surprise, he did. "Life in general, I guess." He took a deep breath, then choked out the words, "I think I'm falling for Abby."  
  
"Abby? But she and Doctor Kovac...oh," she faltered, suddenly understanding. "Oh."  
  
"Gotta hand it to me about falling for unattainable ones," he sighed as he raked his fingers through his sandy hair, "I shouldn't even be feeling this way. She's been a great friend to me, and even though I have a friction with Doctor Kovac, I do respect him."  
  
She wasn't sure what she was supposed to think, or feel about his confession. She supposed she did feel a bit of jealousy for the fact that his great friend was now Abby, but her sympathy for him was greater. "She helped you through difficult times. It's only natural to form an attachment with her."  
  
He turned to her with a lopsided grin. "For Christ's sake, Deb. You sound like a therapist."  
  
She smiled ruefully. "Sorry, been reading too much clinical psychology reports lately." Then she sobered down, "So, you think telling her about your feelings is impossible?"  
  
"Yep." He looked up at the sky with a self-deprecating smile, pretending that thinking about his feelings didn't matter to him.  
  
"But wouldn't that make you feel at least a little better?"  
  
"Nope, I don't think so."  
  
"Then *what* would make you feel better?"  
  
"A cigarette?" He looked at her with a hopeful expression.  
  
She gave him a look. "Don't even think about it."  
  
"Damn," he sighed dramatically, "Well, I tried." He looked down, shuffling his right foot. "Funny. Here we are, two kids brought up in a rich environment, both with excellently satisfying professions, yet grossly unhappy with where our lives are going. Great, isn't it?"  
  
She frowned. "What makes you think I'm unhappy?"   
  
"Aren't you?" he asked back.  
  
If she was, she was sure that he didn't need to know about it. "No. I'm not unhappy."  
  
He only shrugged. "Whatever you say."  
  
She was beginning to feel uneasy. All of a sudden, the temperature seemed to have dropped a few degrees, and she had to fasten her jacket. "I hope it's going to work out with her, one way or the other," she took a step forward to the direction of her car, "If you need anyone to talk to, I'm always around, so..."  
  
"You're going?" He looked alarmed.   
  
She tried to think of a plausible excuse. It turned out that there were quite many reasons why they shouldn't be standing here talking this late at night. "It's getting late, and I have an early shift tomorrow. As I recall, you do too. Go home, John." She gave him a small smile as a good-bye gesture, and turned around. For some reason, she felt the urge to leave the place as soon as possible.  
  
"Deb, wait."  
  
Before she realized what was happening, he took her arm, whirled her around, and bent down to kiss her. For that overwhelming moment, she let herself enjoy the sensation of his lips pressing hers, and let herself feel his hands gently cupping her face.   
  
But only for a moment.  
  
As soon as her senses came back to her, she pulled away from him, thoroughly shocked. When she looked up, she saw an equally startled and perplexed expression on his face.   
  
She knew that both of them were asking the same question at the moment--What was that?  
  
"I don't know what has gotten over me," he professed, obviously disturbed by his action, "I just...I don't know what happened."  
  
She felt dizzy, and her legs seemed to be on the verge of giving in. "Think *I* need that cigarette now."  
  
"Right," he agreed, and let go of her arm he'd been holding. "...Right."  
  
They stood awkwardly, facing each other. He was looking at somewhere beyond her shoulder, avoiding her eyes, and she was doing just about the same thing. Many thoughts were going to her mind, but her lips were unable to form any words.  
  
"I think," she took a deep breath, and willed herself to speak, "I think it'd be for the best if I just leave now."  
  
"Deb, you don't have to go. I mean...I don't know what I mean, actually." His fingers that raked through his hair shook slightly. "Would you...would you like to come over to my place tonight?"   
  
There was no doubt what he meant by his suggestion. She wasn't greatly surprised, but couldn't help feeling sad.  
  
Loneliness could do a lot of strange things to people, she thought bitterly.   
  
She swallowed the metallic taste in her mouth, and spoke calmly, "John, if this is an attempt to be with someone tonight, I don't think I want to be the one. I don't deserve that. I don't deserved to be thought as someone..."   
  
Who? Someone who could sooth his loneliness with no strings attached? Someone who could provide him with a safe outlet? Someone who shared his misery, but not his heart?   
  
She didn't want to know the answer.  
  
"You're right," he spoke almost inaudibly after a few seconds of silence, "I'm sorry."  
  
She stared at him for a long moment, before she turned around and walked to her car without looking back.   
  
It was supposed to be summer soon. Then why was it so cold?  
  
'Do you regret it?'  
  
The voice asked again as she opened the car door and slipped into the seat. This time, it wasn't asking about her baby she had to give up.  
  
As she drove by, she saw the dark figure reflected back in her mirror, standing against the wall where she'd left him. She stared as the figure got smaller and smaller, until it disappeared altogether.  
  
Did she regret it?  
  
This time, the answer was yes.  
  
  
  
End Part 1  
05/03/01  
  
  



	2. Hangover

Part 1 was obviously an episode tag for 'April Showers'.   
Forgive my medical jargons. I'm not used to writing ER fanfic just yet. And yes, this will be a series. ;)  
  
  
Part 2: Hangover ('Sailing Away')  
***  
'An unfulfilled vocation drains the color from a man's entire existence.'  
--Honoré de Balzac  
***  
  
  
John Carter, M.D., the self-proclaimed dumbest person alive, was having hell of a hangover.  
  
He fumbled on the bed, attempted to stand up, and tripped over a beer bottle he'd left on the floor last night. Several empty cans and bottles were strewn over his bedroom, and he had to maneuver through them as if he was walking on a minefield. There had to be a reason he'd emptied the two six-packs in one night by himself, but his memory was coming and going in his head, whirling around like a windmill, and he couldn't remember a thing.   
  
When he finally reached the bathroom, he threw up probably everything he had had last week. He wasn't even sure if he could survive through a shower in his groggy state, but he needed to shower in order to make himself at least presentable at work. His shift started at...oh god. He was already late, wasn't he? Crap.  
  
After hurriedly taking a shower and freshening up a bit, he looked much better, and felt much more alive. He would live through this, he reassured himself as he watched himself in the mirror. He would live through the day.  
  
...Then why was he feeling like he wanted to punch the face reflected in the mirror?  
  
When he finally sneaked into the ER after breaking every speed limit that there was, he found that Kerry wasn't there to bark at him. He quickly said hello to Randi and Chuni, grabbed his charts, and made a run for his round. He kept his fingers crossed. So far, his luck was sticking around.  
  
"Carter," a voice called out from behind him.  
  
Darn. What did he just think about his luck? When he turned around, he was faced with Luka in his immaculate white coat and a little tired expression.   
  
"Doctor Kovac," he said, wondering if he should apologize for being late. He should, because Luka was *technically* the attending chief, and because he was certain that the Croatian doctor didn't think that highly of him already. But Carter's pride--pride? What pride? Ego, more like it--didn't allow him to apologize for anything in front of Luka.  
  
To his surprise, Luka said, "I just wanted to thank you."   
  
If that didn't take him off-guard, nothing ever could. They really weren't on friendly terms. "Uhhh, for what?"  
  
"For helping out Abby in Oklahoma." He did look genuinely thankful, his usual uptight attitude toward him nowhere to be seen. "I never got a chance to properly thank you last night, with Maggie all...Well, I just wanted to let you know that I do appreciate your help, as does Abby."  
  
See, the bad thing about having a slightly grudge against a man like Doctor Kovac was that there was no way to hold up that grudge unless you were extremely determined about it. Luka was basically a polite man, very passionate about his work, and had survived through a war and losing his whole family, which made it incredibly hard for the others to tell him to can it. Carter's own past addiction problems would look like a joke to Luka.  
  
However, a little corner of his mind was still annoyed by Luka's sincere thank-you. Why did he have to thank him in Abby's place? ...Oh yeah. They were going out together. Right.   
  
Which made him all so more 'extremely' determined to hold that grudge.  
  
"Of course. You're welcome," Carter said, not really meaning it. He then noticed Luka's outfit, which was the one he wore yesterday, and the big dark circles under around his eyes. "You stayed here all night?" he asked, with a bit of incredulity.  
  
"Ah," Luka looked down at his wrinkled shirt, "Well, Abby wanted to stay with Maggie, and I didn't want to leave her alone."  
  
Right. Right. Right. Going out together. Yes.  
  
They just looked at each other standing in the middle of the corridor in discomfort, until a petite brunette they both knew so well appeared from the examination room and came to their side.  
  
"Luka!" Abby called out, obviously glad to see him, "I've been looking for you...hey, Carter."   
  
"Hi," Carter said, in all honesty secretly wishing Luka off somewhere.  
  
Abby gave him a slight smile, and he couldn't help smiling back at her. It was getting increasingly hard to control his expressions around her. Dammit.  
  
"You were looking for me?" Luka asked, his face masked with concern, "Is anything wrong with--"  
  
"Oh no. Mom's fine now." Carter could see that she was trying hard to mask her shadowed expression for Luka. "I just wanted to know if you want to have a late breakfast, that's all. You haven't had anything for a while."   
  
Breakfast together, Carter thought with a slight pang of jealousy, could be one more reason to hold the grudge against Doctor Kovac.  
  
"I'd like to, but--" Luka checked his watch, "--I'm already late for my shift. How about a lunch later?"   
  
"Sure," Abby grinned back at him, "I'll see you then?"  
  
"Yes." Luka then turned to Carter and nodded. "I better go now. Abby, I'll drop by later." He gave his girlfriend a hint of an affectionate smile, then left them standing in the corridor.  
  
Carter shuffled his foot. "So."   
  
"So," she repeated carefully, her eyes seemingly searching something in his face.  
  
"So, how are you holding up? Is Maggie doing okay?" he asked the obvious questions, unable to think of anything else.  
  
"Pretty well, considering everything. I, well, I can't thank you enough for all you've done for us," her voice was filled with sincere gratitude.  
  
He shrugged good-naturedly. "I wanted to help."   
  
It was the truth. He just wanted to be there for her. Of course, the real truth was that he wanted to help her more *when* Luka wasn't around, but he wasn't ready to admit that to anyone, not even to himself.  
  
Okay, what the heck was he doing?  
  
He wasn't ready to address the issue just yet, but this was getting ridiculous. What did he want from her, exactly? She was easy to be with, had a very affectionate heart, but how was she different from any other woman he'd known? Why did he always feel the need to help her out? And god, since when did he begin to have 'crushes' on brunettes? Like Deb said...oh, crap.  
  
Deb, she was the reason for his hangover. Now he remembered. He hadn't been ready to face her again--hence begun the drinking rampage. It'd been a week since he had made a terrible mistake, acting in a way that could have totally ruined the friendship they shared. The impulsive kiss was bad enough, but to actually suggest her to come over to his house? The words 'rude' and 'insulting' didn't even begin to cover his behavior.  
  
The thought that he might've ruined the friendship once and for all had distraught him, but he'd been putting off talking to her, attempting to avoid her somehow. Going to Oklahoma had given him a proper excuse for distancing himself from seeing her again, but what now?   
  
"Carter?" Abby's soft voice broke him out of his reverie.  
  
What now, indeed.  
  
"Yeah," he said apologetically, and tapped on his charts, "I better go too. See you around?"  
  
She looked slightly puzzled at his abruptness, but didn't pursue it. "Yeah, see you."  
  
He watched as she disappeared into the exam room, quickly immersing herself into the nursing duty. He stared for a moment before he moved on. The question still echoed in his mind--what the heck was he doing, really?  
  
He finished off his round quickly, and went in search for Deb. It was now or never. He couldn't afford to lose the friendship that meant so much to him. He needed to do this.  
  
Determined, he leaned over the front desk and asked, "Randi, did you see De...Doctor Chen around?"  
  
"She's up there with Doctor Corday," Randi answered, not even looking up at him. He felt a headache coming on by just watching her working on the post-it's she kept for everyone. Personally he'd never choose to work at County as a clerk for anything. "They're hovering over Ella again. They've been at it for hours already," she informed him.  
  
"Ah." The hottest topic in the ER right now --he found all about it after spending three minutes at the reception station-- was Ella Greene, the newest addition to the Greene family. Apparently, she was an angel.   
  
And Deb was seeing her now. The worry instantly clouded his mind. Seeing any child at this stage would only depress her mood, he was certain. How would she feel, seeing a happy mother and her baby together with no reservations? It hadn't been more than a few months since she'd let go of her own.  
  
Maybe he should rethink and postpone his apology to her...?  
  
God, John Carter, he scolded himself, you're a coward.  
  
When he was filling out one of the files, debating inside whether he should continue his searchf for Deb, Mark Greene materialized beside him, with his 'I'm a busy doctor' mode still intact even after marrying a beautiful fellow doctor *and* becoming a father.  
  
"You look like crap," Mark told him, quickly scribbling on the board.  
  
"Funny. Everyone's telling me that lately."  
  
"Then it must be true." Mark glanced at him with an amused look.  
  
Carter shook his head slightly at the older doctor, grinning. "Well, congrats, Doctor Greene. Heard she's beautiful."  
  
"She is," Mark's eyes instantly glittered with an unconcealed joy, "She absolutely is."   
  
He was glad to see his friend happy. Mark was one of the best men he'd known, and with what he'd gone through lately, he really deserved some downtime. Smiling, Carter picked up another file and whirled around.  
  
...Only to see Deb heading toward him, her head buried in a case file, not noticing he was directly in her way.  
  
To call out, or not to call out, that was a question, wasn't it?  
  
Against his better judgment, he said, "Deb?"  
  
He carefully watched for her reaction. Her head snapped up in surprise, and her lovely dark eyes met his. "John," she said, chewing her lower lip, "You're back."  
  
"Ah...yes." He wasn't sure where he should rest his eyes. Certainly, he didn't feel like looking into hers--he was afraid what he'd find there.  
  
"Good." Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the file she carried. "That's good."  
  
There was an awkward pause between them, and it almost drove him nuts. Deb was one person at County he didn't have to feel awkward about, and now this. He did this.  
  
What did he expect? He'd acted like an ass in every sense of the word.  
  
"Uh," he hesitantly suggested, "Do you want to grab a...coffee or something?"  
  
She nodded in all cordiality, but with nothing else in her expression. "All right."   
  
They walked into the empty locker room with hot coffee in Styrofoam cups. All the while, she didn't say anything at all, only looking down at her coffee as if it was suddenly a very fascinating medical subject. He felt the silence was beginning to suffocate him.  
  
"I really am sorry about the other night," he finally blurted out.  
  
She was obviously putting in a lot of effort to smile at him. "It's all right. You told me that already, and I understand."   
  
It didn't convince him. "It's my fault that things are not right between us. I...really don't want to lose your friendship, Deb."  
  
"It was a mistake," she spoke softly. It was clear that she didn't want him to beat himself over this. "We all make mistakes. And there's nothing wrong between us."  
  
He was a little surprised to be forgiven so quickly. "There isn't?"   
  
"No." This time, she gave him her genuine, bright smile that he recognized, not a forced, awkward one. "We're just fine. And hey, what do you know?" her face broke into a playful grin, "Now I have a very good blackmail material on you about your *crush*."  
  
He groaned automatically. "Ah, Deb..."  
  
"Should've thought about it when you made a therapist out of me," her playful grin was still there, her eyes twinkling, "There's always a penalty following. Or a therapy bill, if you will."  
  
He was the one who made a mistake, yet, Deb was trying so hard to make him feel better with her light jokes. He sensed the familiar feeling of guilt suppressing his chest.   
  
He really didn't deserve a friend like this.   
  
"Alright, then," he sighed dramatically, in sync with her playfulness, "What would this penalty entail?"  
  
"Hmm..." she pretended to ponder the point, "How about a free meal at McDonald? And that includes 20 pieces of chicken nuggets to go."  
  
He arched his eyebrow, stifling a laugh. "There is something to be said about medical doctors enjoying gross junk food, don't you think?"  
  
"I indulge from time to time, and you cannot possibly tell me you don't," she answered sassily, giving him a mock-glare.   
  
He realized he was smiling. "Cannot possibly tell you that. Of course you're right."   
  
The mischievous look on her face gradually changed into a sober one. She asked, hesitant, "Are things...looking up yet? You went all the way to Oklahoma with Abby."   
  
He appreciated her careful, unobtrusive way to ask questions, the one that made sure he wouldn't feel pressured to answer anything he didn't want to. "It could be, I don't know," he admitted, "But well, Rena dumped me. So there."  
  
She chuckled. "Well, it's about time."   
  
"Hey," he protested, "Have some sympathy. I'm heartbroken."  
  
"Yes John, and you're doing a *terrible* job acting heartbroken."  
  
Deb always presented herself in a serious and goal-oriented manner with everyone, save for him and or maybe Malucci. With him, she was always playful and teasing, probably because their longtime friendship. With Malucci, well, no one could possibly be all-time serious with him.   
  
He'd missed her gentle and teasing ways, he realized. Now she was fully back in the playful mode, and he felt the pressing weight lifting from his chest.  
  
When they were fully into discussing the medical point of view on the term 'heart-broken', the door abruptly opened, and Kerry peeked through the door.  
  
"Carter, Chen! What the hell are you doing here?" she shouted immediately, "Two MGW victims, and more. Now!"  
  
They exchanged an amused look, and rushed out from the room together.   
  
The familiar scene of paramedics wheeling the gurneys filled the ER, accompanied by loud shouts and incomprehensible noises. Carter ran to the nearest one, and saw Deb doing the same.  
  
One of the paramedics began to fill him on the condition right away, while they pushed the gurney to the next empty exam room, "Multiple stab wounds. We almost lost her on the way. Think the lung is punctured."  
  
Stab wounds? He made a fatal mistake of looking up to the face of the bleeding patient. He felt a shiver going down his spine, and momentarily froze. The victim's pale face reminded him of a face he'd seen so many times in his nightmares. The blood was gushing through the slashed flesh, dripping on the floor, covering...  
  
You can handle this, he whispered to himself through his labored breaths, you can do this. You've done this many times after the incident. You *can* do this.  
  
Somehow, Deb was already at his side. "I'll get this one," she declared to everyone, "John, Doctor Weaver wants you in Trauma 1." Before he said anything, she began to work on the patient in front of them. "Go," she nudged him, and whispered quietly, "You go take care of the MGW victim. I'll take this."  
  
Thoughtful and considerate. That was Deb. He was more than grateful for her timely interruption, but he couldn't even mumble his thanks to her. He wiped off the cold sweat on his face, and forced his immobile legs to move on.  
  
He thought he'd forgotten. He thought he was moving on.  
  
But demons never disappeared overnight. The nightmares, they'd always be around, poking into his life with their ugly heads whenever he thought he had forgotten.  
  
They never disappeared.  
  
The rest of the day passed without any more major incidents. He worked hard on his patients, and thought of anything else. He couldn't afford to think of anything else.  
  
At the end of the day, rather than going home, he sat in the waiting lounge, sipping coke in an almost idle position. From here, he could observe people coming and going. The first couple to come out was Peter and Cleo. They seemed to be arguing about something, as always, but whatever it was they were arguing about, it ended up with Doctor Benton putting his arm around her shoulder.   
  
Mark and Doctor Corday were heading out together. Doctor Corday was up already? The couple was an embodiment of happiness itself, and he was still envious.  
  
And the last but the least, Abby and Luka walked out, their fingers entwined together. When her eyes found him sitting by himself, the look on her face instantly changed into something he couldn't name. What was it? Guilt? Regret? What?   
  
Something was between him and Abby, and after the trip to Oklahoma, she was very aware of it too. They shared addiction problems, and many others, being the two of a kind. He also knew that if he kept this up --being there for her all the time, offering his help, opening up his mind in the natural and comfortable way that Luka, otherwise a thoughtful boyfriend, couldn't-- there might come a point when Abby would need him more than Luka.  
  
Did he want that? Was that what he really wanted?  
  
And there was Deb.   
  
His friend came out the locker room in the black dress he'd often seen her wear. Before he stood up to call out for her, Malucci, who was passing by, did a double-take on her dress, and immediately began hitting on her. There was nothing unusual about this picture, and Carter expected their conversation to last for mere seconds, with Deb putting him down if not with a whimper then with a bang.   
  
However, the strangest thing happened; Deb actually laughed at what Dave said.   
  
It wasn't a humorless laugh, or the usual 'Oh, you're absurd, Malucci!' laugh. It was an actual heart-feeling laugh, one that he thought she had only spared it openly for...  
  
...him?  
  
What was this? Deb wasn't even supposed to laugh and have a good time with Dave? Now, that was just low and pathetic, even for him.  
  
Deb was now heading directly to the exit, her right hand looking for the keys in her purse, when she saw him. She turned to him, mildly surprised, "I thought you went home already." She then gave him a stern look. "You're not planning to smoke in the parking lot again, are you?"  
  
"Not smoke, just coke," he grinned, and gestured the can he was holding, "You *are* mother hen-ish, you know that?"   
  
"Only because you make me," she grinned back. "Go home, John. Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
He opened his mouth, again wanting to ask her to stay. Maybe she wanted to stick around a little bit more. Maybe she wanted to get something to drink, and heck, maybe even go to McDonald. Maybe she wanted to be something more to him than just a friend... So many maybe's.  
  
But he couldn't. He couldn't do that to her.   
  
He only said, "Goodnight, Deb."   
  
She gave him an obligatory good-night smile, and left.  
  
As he watched her walk away, his mind coined her question that he'd heard that night, 'What makes you so unhappy, John?'  
  
Unhappy? Hardly. Everything was back to normal, which was what he'd wanted. He was still mooning over Abby, but now with some hope, and he was completely convinced that Deb didn't want to be anything for him except a good friend. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Keeping the friendship was all he'd wanted.  
  
Wasn't it?  
  
Why then, pray tell, did he have to kiss her that night?  
  
'What makes you so unhappy, John?'  
  
He didn't want to find the answers to these questions. And if he kept thinking about them, he just might.  
  
Maybe he should go home, and take a long bath. Maybe he should just sleep it off. Maybe he could forget about everything for tonight. Maybe things would be better tomorrow. Maybe then the void inside him would be gone without the help of wine and beer. Maybe...or maybe not.  
  
When he walked out of the ER, he headed straight to the nearest liquor store.   
  
He was drinking tonight.  
  
  
  
End Part 2  
05/05/01  
---  
  
Feedback would be greatly appreciated. I need something to go on. ;)  



	3. 

  
Part 3: Ticking ('Fear of Commitment')  
***  
'All you touch and all you see,  
Is all your life will ever be.'  
- - Pink Floyd, "Breathe"   
***  
  
  
There were times she swore that she could hear the clocks ticking all around her. Tick-tok-tick-tok. On and on and on. Like that Energizer bunny.  
  
She wondered what this ticking was supposed to mean. The first obvious thought that came to her mind was the so-called biological clock ticking in her. She could vividly hear her married friends and relatives talking about their children in their irritatingly merry ways, asking her whether she was going to get herself a husband, or if she was dating anyone. Right, get a husband. She, then, would politely smile at them, and tell them no, she wasn't dating anyone, because her body wasn't up for it just yet after giving birth to her baby without a father.  
  
Well, okay, she never actually said *that* to anyone. She wanted to, though. Changing the topic to their beautiful children and how they were doing in various elite institutions could work only so many times.  
  
Maybe it really was the biological clock ticking, she thought ruefully. Certainly the constant reminders were everywhere. She wasn't exactly old, but she was no longer at the age when dating meant shagging another guy met in the bar. It really didn't help that her mom had to call every week to invite her to family dinners and social occasions, subtly reminding her of her age. She was sure that her mother had matchmaking plans on her mind, probably with accountants, lawyers, or God forbid, another doctors! Of course, who could resist talking to the men who thought discussing vermiform appendix all night constituted as a good date?  
  
Like she'd told John, maybe she should hit the bar tonight, meet a gorgeous guy, and have hot sex. Then this ticking might go away. And she would *not* think about how her last stand ended up, because as long as her son was out there somewhere, growing up happily and supported by excellent parents, she could never regret having him.  
  
God, she needed a date.  
  
She closed her locker, straightened her jacket, and walked out of the changing room. She promised herself that rather than hitting the bar which would lead to nowhere, she'd see Ella one more time before going home. At this rate, she was going to beat Doctor Greene on frequency of visiting his newborn daughter. Ella was so lovely, and she couldn't help herself.  
  
As soon as she stepped out, Dave came to her side. "Jing-Mei, hey." He stood a little awkwardly, his manner a little different from the usual devil-may-care, I-am-flirting-with-you-and-don't-give-a-damn-whether-you-want-it-or-not attitude.  
  
Her conscience jabbed her heart. "Hey," she started reluctantly, "I'm sorry for...bitching at you today. I didn't know--" that you weren't BS'ing me for the first time in your life? "--that patient would really do that...to you. Are your eyes okay?" She carefully studied his eyes that had been pepper-sprayed this afternoon.  
  
He made a dismissive wave with his hand. "Ah, just fine. That woman was a fruitcake, I tell you, but my eyes are still perfectly 20/20."  
  
Maybe she was too mean to him. Dave *was* a nice man underneath all that crude...attitude he seemed to mistakenly believe as a rugged charm. "Well, that's good."   
  
He smirked. "So you're saying it really was PMS?"  
  
Right. Her good opinion of Dave Malucci never lasted mere seconds. She shot him a glacial glare, "Goodbye, Malucci."  
  
However, before she had a chance to put some safe distance between them, he caught up with her. "Chen, hey, listen. Whatcha doing this Friday?"  
  
Here we go again, she inwardly groaned. "Dave--"  
  
"Just hear me out. You want to go catch a movie on Friday? How does, hmm," he cleared his throat, "'Bridget Jones's Diary' sound?"  
  
She stopped on her tracks. "What?"  
  
"C'mon, Chen. I know you want to. I saw the books in your cabinet. You've read all the books by Helen Fielding *and* 'Pride and Prejudice'. Of course you want to see the movie, although...you haven't seen it already, have you?"  
  
She had longed to see it, but she hadn't been willing to watch it alone. And now Dave was asking her to watch it with him. Had he been actually paying attention to what she'd been reading? She couldn't help feeling touched. "You really want to watch a romance movie about a thirtysomething woman and gorgeous Brit guys?"  
  
"Hey, anything for you, milady." He bowed dramatically. "Plus, Renee Zellweger's in it."   
  
"With 20 extra pounds."  
  
"With, or without, she's still hot. You can have the Hugh guy, or..Colin, what's-his-name."  
  
"Firth. Colin Firth," she answered without thinking. She would never admit it, but she knew the story by heart.  
  
"See? I knew you were interested." The grin on his face was getting broader. "So? What would you say?"  
  
She chewed her lower lip, and considered the proposition. Malucci flirted disastrously and had no sense whatsoever to speak of, but she knew he was a nice man. Why was she hesitating then? Okay, so he wasn't her type, but he was obviously trying hard to show her a good time. And hadn't she thought just a few minutes ago that she needed a date? It was just a movie. Why not?  
  
The bottom line. She was sick of being alone.  
  
"Okay," she said, wondering if she was making a huge mistake.  
  
"...Okay?" Dave looked rather surprised. "You mean it, right?"   
  
He looked so eager and pleased, she thought it'd be a crime to let him down now. "Yes. Think we can discuss the time and place tomorrow?"  
  
If he smiled any broader, he was going to need a plastic surgery. "Sure, tomorrow is good. Very good."  
  
She watched as Dave left with an extremely joyous look. She *really* hoped she was doing the right thing.  
  
When she reached the infant nursing room through now-familiar corridors, she saw Doctor Corday with Ella in the room. She stood in front of the viewing screen, looking in. Elizabeth looked content beyond description. The effect of the hours of pain from the labor, which seemed to last weeks for some women, couldn't even dent the happiness shone through her eyes.  
  
For a moment, Jing-Mei wondered how Ella would look when she grew up. Maybe she would inherit the blond curls of Elizabeth, Mark's eyes and nose. Maybe it could be the other way around? But Ella wouldn't go bald, of course. She shook her head to shake off *that* particular image out of her brain. Anyway, one way or the other, Ella would become a beautiful lady inside and out. She already had the look, and had wonderful parents to look after her. Of course, Doctor Greene's health might not be excellent just yet, but she still wanted to believe that love could concur it all. For the supposedly detached and ambitious medical doctor, she was way too romantic.  
  
In this line of thinking, it was inevitable to wonder whether she would ever have another chance to become a mother. If she ever met someone who she wanted to be with for her whole life, and if she was sitting on the other side with her baby like Elizabeth right now, could she be happy, really, without thinking of the one that wasn't with her? Would she be able to tell her husband that she once abandoned her son? Would she be able to tell that to her other children?  
  
She'd thought of this before signing the adoption papers. She'd thought about it so many times.   
  
And from the looks of it, there wasn't going to be an answer any time soon.  
  
Oh get a grip, Jing-Mei, she berated herself. She was done with staring. She'd first intended to say hello to Doctor Corday, but she decided it'd be better if she just sneaked out before the doctor noticed her. It'd only be an awkward moment for both of them. She kept her head down and walked downstairs, heading straight to the parking lot.  
  
When she got there, however, she encountered someone else. Doctor Kovac was standing by himself, his long coat and the dark expression on his face almost making him look like a character out of a noir film. Automatically, she put on a courteous smile. "Doctor Kovac, I thought someone else was covering for you today."  
  
"Hmm?" He looked up, as if he hadn't noticed her coming. "Oh, well, I'm just waiting for Abby."  
  
"Oh." That was odd, Jing-Mei thought. She knew Abby wasn't at County either. Something about her mother...  
  
Noticing the puzzled look on her face, Doctor Kovac explained rather reluctantly, "She's visiting her mother right now, bringing her...baggage. I thought I should give them some space."  
  
"What's wrong with Maggie?" a voice asked behind her. Oh great, she thought. She didn't have to turn to know who it was.   
  
Noticing the sudden stiff look on Doctor Kovac's face at the unexpected appearance of her friend, she quickly spoke first, "John, hey. Thought you went home." This seemed to be her favorite line lately.  
  
John stood behind her, obviously displeased. "No, Deb. I'm heading off now." He *looked* like he was talking to her, but his eyes were almost penetrating the man in front of him. Doctor Kovac was staring back at him in exactly the same manner.   
  
She felt like she was being fried by their blazing glares. Funny that she had never noticed this outright antagonism between them before. Sure, they hadn't been the best buddies, but only after John had told her about his feelings, it'd became glaringly obvious that he and Doctor Kovac were reduced to the stage of Neanderthals around each other, presumably over Abby. It was pretty surprising that everyone else hadn't noticed it yet.  
  
"What's wrong with Maggie?" John repeated, growing impatient.  
  
Doctor Kovac explained without great enthusiasm, "She's being released from hospital. She got the court approval."  
  
"And you let this happen?" John challenged, his voice edgy and accusatory.  
  
This was going to be bad, she winced. She decided that she wasn't prepared to witness this particular confrontation. "Hmph," she coughed, letting her presence known before they started pulling out their swords. "I think I should head home now. Goodnight, doctors."  
  
Her words had an instant affect on them as if she had poured a bucket of ice water over their heads. They broke their gazes with a start, and turned to her with sheepish expressions.   
  
"Uh, goodnight," Doctor Kovac said, awkward.  
  
"Yeah," John also fumbled, "See you tomorrow."  
  
She restrained the urge to shake her head, and momentarily entertained a silly thought that they might actually get into a fist-fight after she left. She'd taken less than five steps toward her car, however, when the object of their affection appeared from the exit. She couldn't help but grimace this time. What was this? A late-night gathering in the parking lot leading to a life or death fight between two guys and a damsel in distress?   
  
"Abby," Doctor Kovac called out. John merely looked.   
  
Abby approached the group, looking slightly distracted. Who wouldn't be, Jing-Mei wondered sarcastically, if she were to be jammed between two stunningly gorgeous men?   
  
She stopped herself--she was being petty. Abby was having a very hard time with her mother, and having two egotistic men swooning over her couldn't possibly be the priority in her mind. It certainly wasn't Abby's fault that the guys were being jerks.  
  
Abby only seemed to notice the people around her when Doctor Kovac reached out to grab her hand. "Hey," she said, but her voice had no strength. Now in close proximity, Jing-Mei could see that Abby was exhausted, and her eyes were moistened. She felt even more guilty about thinking badly of Abby a minute ago.   
  
Abby didn't seem to be the mood in for any pleasantries, which signaled the end of the confrontation. John and Doctor Kovac shut up quickly.  
  
"Let's go home," Abby whispered. Doctor Kovac nodded and led her away.  
  
Jing-Mei watched John's eyes lingered on the leaving couple. This time, she did shake her head. She now had the up-close and personal experience with the 'triangle', and she couldn't say she wanted to know more about it.  
  
She should be saying something to him, she thought as John continued to stare. But what?  
  
She wasn't sure how long she could pretend to be a happy merry friend in front of John. Playing the supportive friend had its limit, and she was getting tired. There were always playful and chatty around each other, but something was wrong. She knew that underneath the smiles and friendliness, they were both trying to ignore something. Something that she couldn't define.  
  
"Goodnight, John," she said, for what seemed like the tenth time tonight.  
  
Thoughts clearly elsewhere, he mumbled to her, "Goodnight." Without saying anything more, he left the parking lot and walked away.  
  
She sighed and tried to conceal the disappointment at his indifference. Her mind subconsciously went over what happened, and it suddenly struck her that something about his eyes hadn't been right. He also looked a little too worn out than usual, as if, as if... She stopped the thought from forming in her head. No, he wouldn't do that. He was clean, and he vowed never to do it again. It was probably just stress from the whole Abby situation. He'd looked just fine and cheerful all day. Of course it was just stress.   
  
Or, maybe, she was being way too sensitive. She was like that when it came to John.  
  
...Why?  
  
One word, one deceptively simple question, presented itself with unthinkable possibilities that could shake the control over her own life.   
  
A voice inside her snapped angrily in defense. What do you mean why? Because you care for him as a friend. What else?  
  
Another voice calmly advised. Denial is fine, really, if you don't hurt others with it. But dragging someone else into your problem is unacceptable.   
  
She knew what she had to do. She turned her heels, and walked back to the ER again.   
  
It took a while to locate the person she was looking for, but she finally spotted him coming out from Trauma 2.  
  
"Dave." She tried to smile for him, but couldn't.  
  
"Hey," his face immediately broke into a huge grin, "Thought you left a long time ago."  
  
The fact that he was obviously very glad to see her made it harder for her to tell him what she had to say. But she wasn't going to play with another person's emotions. She should have at least that much of decency and respect for him. "Dave, it's about Friday night. I...think I have to cancel it. I'm...really sorry."  
  
She saw the look of disappointment passing through his face. But he recovered quickly with a light voice, as if he didn't want to show his hurt feelings, "What? You washing your hair again?"  
  
She wanted to say yes. She wanted to say yes and make everything a passing joke, but...but she owed him honesty. "I don't think I'm up for it."  
  
"What do you mean you're not up for it? One should always be up for a Friday night movie!"   
  
She almost smiled at his attempt at humor. "I don't think I can. It's not fair to you."   
  
"It's just a movie, Chen," Dave said quietly, as if he understood, "It's that simple."  
  
It was never that simple. This wasn't a movie, or even a book. Mr. Darcy of 'Pride and Prejudice' wasn't going to appear and scoop her away from her problems. This was her life. She'd been always a practical one, always able to tell the useful facts, always trying to land on her feet crisis after crisis. Whatever the reason was, she was losing her control. She desperately needed it back. Falling for her friend who was in love with someone else wasn't the best idea of having control over her life.   
  
"I'm sorry," she told him truthfully.   
  
He stared at her for a long moment, thinking. "Hey, is this why?" he suddenly tugged at his white doctor coat he extremely disliked, "Be honest with me, cuz I can take it like a man. Do I look that fat in this?"  
  
She stared at him for a few seconds before she broke into laughter. Dave really was a good man. It was too bad he was wasting his time with her. "Nah," she shook her head, "You look very nice in it. Cute, actually, in a ragged sort of way."  
  
He wrinkled his nose. "Cute? Not sexy?"  
  
She almost laughed again. "Don't push it."  
  
"Right. Oh well, at least now I know." He turned around, shrugging nonchalantly. She knew that he'd treat her exactly same, as if nothing had happened.   
  
"Thank you," she whispered quietly before he walked away. She meant it.  
  
He met her eyes, and nodded. "You're welcome."  
  
Another night alone. By herself. But it wasn't so bad, she told herself. This was what she wanted.  
  
Work. She at least had her work.   
  
She got home, microwaved a late dinner, and sat in front of her desk. She came back to medicine so she could establish something for herself. Right now her goal was becoming the chief resident next year, and that meant more work and more study. She chewed the hard linguine and sipped cool coffee. For a while, she tried to read various medical journals and memorize them.  
  
After thrity minutes of unsuccessful attempts to concentrate, she closed the files with a sigh. She came out to her living room, and put on the first volume of six 'Pride and Prejudice' tapes.  
  
She could afford to be romantic here, by herself, watching a TV-remake of Jane Austen novel. At least like this, she would never lose control.  
  
She turned up the volume, so she wouldn't have to hear the ticking in her head.  
  
Another night alone.  
  
The clock still ticked.  
  
  
05/07/01 


	4. Ball Game

Yay, another part! Finally.  
  
Part 4: Ball Game ('Where the Heart Is')  
***  
'We're captive on the carousel of time.  
We can't return, we can only look  
Behind from where we came,  
And go round and round and round in the circle game.'  
- Tom Rush, "The Circle Game"  
***  
  
  
"Foul ball?" Luka grumbled, "Why was it a foul ball?"  
  
Carter had to repress a grin threatening to spread across his face. It wouldn't be right to be *too* happy about Luka's spectacular foul ball now, was it? "Rules, Luka, rules," he commented, handing him a bottle of Gatorade as Luka sank on the bench at his side. "Pesky little rules say so."   
  
Carter, unlike the Croatian doctor who was still looking very unhappy, enjoyed the games on diamond shaped playgrounds. He wasn't one of those buff men who lived and died by sports, but he was a sufficiently good enough athelete when he was willing to play. On the field, you were living in another world, another place where Real Life didn't count as much as your last foul ball, where beating of your heart and the sweat on your face meant something more than physical reactions, where you could start with a clean record plate and no one had a say in it except for youreslf. Where you could forget about things and just say 'To hell with it!' about the future dream that was thoroughly ruined.  
  
Of course, it didn't hurt that Luka sucked at this game.  
  
Dave attempted to cheer up Luka as he successfully finished his round with a hooray. "C'mom, that wasn't so bad. At least we're winning. This is American softball for you."  
  
"Why softball?" Luka grunted, sipping Gatorade. "Not even real baseball now, is it? Now, soccer," he drew his index finger to make a point, "Now there is a real ball game. *Not* football, minds you, but soccer."  
  
Carter piped up, grinning, "And of course the fact that Croatians do great at soccer has nothing to do with your favoritism, right?"  
  
"Of course not." Luka kept his face neutral, but Carter could see that he, too, was suppressing a grin.   
  
Truth to be told, after playing as a team for the entire hour, Carter began to feel friendly toward Doctor Kovac, and somewhere along the way Doctor Kovac naturally became 'Luka' without any discomfort. It felt good, he reluctantly admitted to himself. He liked the way adrenaline pumped through his body, liked the feel of the sweat covering his face. He liked everything about this moment.  
  
And now, life was at its best.   
  
"Hey," Dave suddenly spoke up, "Is that who I think it is?" He furrowed his eyes as he observed the audience bench. "Doctor Weaver!"  
  
Carter grimaced. Life at its best? The statement like that only meant that things just had to go downhill from then on. Yes, he did like Kerry. Yes, he respected Kerry as a doctor. Yes, he understood why she had to dump him out from the list for the next Chief Resident candidates. But it didn't mean that he didn't have the right to feel grumpy around her.  
  
"What is she doing here?" Carter grumbled and turned around to see for himself. Honestly, this was the last place he'd expected to see Kerry. There, beside Maggie and Abby, Kerry sat with an openly curious expression, as if she'd never seen a softball game before. And there was someone else on her side--  
  
"Jing-Mei!" Dave shouted, louder this time, "Came to cheer for me?"  
  
Oh yeah. Downhill was right.  
  
"You wish!" Deb shouted back at Dave as she sat beside Doctor Weaver. But her tone wasn't entirely unpleasant as she admonished him, "Just play the game!"  
  
Carter momentarily hesitated whether he should also say hi to her. Just when he was about to wiggle his fingers, though, Dave shouldered him. "Carter, our turn. Offense."   
  
He looked around and found the other team retreating back to their bench. He gingerly reached for his glove. It unnerved him to see Deb sitting so close to Doctor Weaver, discussing something. He had no doubt that Deb would do her best to get the position. She'd probably get it anyway. He meant it when he said there was no one better than her. He wasn't even sure if he would've been able to beat her into the position if he hadn't been pushed out of the list.  
  
So Deb would be the next Chief Resident. Why did that bother him so much?  
  
"Did you see?" Dave commented loudly to Carter, motioning at Deb, "She's into me. She's *so* into me."  
  
One of the other team members, who happened to be passing by to play defense, caught what Dave said and stared at Deb appreciatively. "Oh, I don't know about that. It looks like she's open for grabs. She's single, right?"  
  
And that statement bothered him even more. "Let's just keep it to the game, okay?" Carter snapped before he was able to stop himself. When he realized his voice had been a little too pointed, with his face a little too rigid, it was too late--Dave was staring at him quizzically.  
  
But the brown-haired goofball doctor didn't comment about that, and only spoke to the other team member, grinning, "Yes, let's keep it to the game. We're here to play balls, but that *those* balls."  
  
Everyone shared a good laugh, but Carter cringed inwardly. Why had he said that? Certainly, the other team was composed of solid medical doctors with supposedly good bedside manners, and if any of them was interested in Deb, shouldn't he be encouraging that?  
  
...Why was he even thinking about this? He shook his head, and concentrated on the game. All he had to do was to follow the ball. One clear objective of any ball game. Follow the ball. Kind of like life.  
  
But you first had to know what you were chasing after, right?  
  
The ball came to his way, and he dived, instantly forgetting about anything else. When the game finally ended--with good 10 more points on his team--he was exhausted to the point that he wasn't able to recall what had been bothering him. He sank on the bench with the rest of the team, sweating and tired, but fairly happy.  
  
Maggie and Abby approached them with drink bottles in their hands, followed by Deb and clearly reluctant Weaver. "Good game," Abby praised and distributed the drinks. She hadn't played after the first round, only sitting with the other ladies and chatting about something they couldn't quite hear. What could they be talking about? He was curious.  
  
"And you didn't add one more foul ball to the record, Luka," Maggie commented, almost giggling. She looked better--she seemed better. Carter was glad. "I'm very impressed. Although, I have to say," she turned to her daughter with a proud grin, "Abby was the best that there was today."  
  
"You're absolutely right," Luka looked actually too drained to complain about the mention of the foul ball. "God, can I propose some other kind of sport for next time?"  
  
"Sure you can," Abby smiled, "But no one here would agree to soccer."  
  
Luka's shoulders sank even more. "Please, count me out for the next game." He then straighened up, noticing Doctor Weaver. "Kerry," he kindly greeted his fellow doctor with a smile, and there was something in his eyes that Carter couldn't quite place. Some sort of a sympathetic understanding? "How did you like the game?"  
  
"It was good," Kerry's answer was reserved, even guarded. There were circles under her eyes, and for whatever reason, she seemed even less personable than usual. "I enjoyed watching it."  
  
"Yes," Deb quickly agreed, almost protectively of Kerry, "I had no idea you guys were this good."  
  
There was a strange vibe, Carter noticed with an alarm as he watched them. It seemed that Deb and Luka were...close to Kerry, as if they knew something that he didn't. What was going on? Certainly, they couldn't have become the best of friends all of a sudden, could they? What did this mean?   
  
Dave's cheerful voice interrupted his alarming thoughts, "Of course we were good. And, of course especially me, right?" Dave quickly got in between Kerry and Deb. "Me with my manly bat. Yeah, I'm the man."  
  
The women in the group all shared a meaningful look that no man was supposed to able to interpret. From the looks of their silent communication, Deb seemed to have been elected as the person to reply. "Yes, yes you are," her voice was filled with laughter. "With your, um, *very* manly bat."  
  
Dave didn't seem to mind the humor in her voice, and only looked satisfied. "Okay, now that's settled, can we go grab something to eat to celebrate?" he suggested, packing the equipment along the others, "I'm starving."  
  
"Sounds like a good idea. Why don't we all go?" Abby agreed, linking her arm with Luka just so naturally.   
  
Yes, things were really going downhill again. Carter decided he wasn't going to stick around to watch the parade. "I think I should just head home," he declared, "Too tired."  
  
Everyone turned to him. "You are?" Abby looked slightly surprised, and a little disappointed, too. "Do you have to go, though?"  
  
"No, he doesn't. He's just playing hard to get," Dave quickly put his arm around Carter's shoulders, "What do you say ladies? Let's give him some incentive."  
  
The 'ladies', again, shared a look. For the first time today, Deb spoke to him carefully, "Yes, John, why don't you join us?" Her grin looked appropriate enough that no one would probably have noticed that it was forced. Of course, no one except him. "I mean, if you don't have any previous engagement," she added, almost embarrassed.   
  
Dave gave her a mock disapproving glare. "Jing-Mei, is that all you've got? I'm so disappointed. Carter, let's just go. You can read Sports Illustrated any time you want, but this is special. We haven't had a get-together for, what, ages? That's just sad."  
  
"Yes, why don't we just make it our little get-together today?" Abby joined, giving Carter a casual smile, "It would be...nice."  
  
A casual smile from Abby was all it took. He knew that, Abby knew that, and Deb knew that. Probably even Luka, who was now talking to Maggie like a good supportive might-soon-be-your-son-in-law, knew. It was the game they played, the game he was now sick of.  
  
"All right," he gave in, because even though he *was* sick of this game, he still wanted it. Badly. "Let's make it our night. McGarty's at the corner?" He purposefully named probably the only non-pub place that was still open. With two people still in AA in the group, a pub wouldn't be a wise choice, no matter how much he could use a drink right about now.  
  
"Sure!" Dave beamed right away, grabbing his bag. "Who's going with me?" His gaze stopped at Deb, and when Carter was about to think that he might have to rescue her from becoming an unfortunate prey of Dave's another attempt, Dave just went pass her to Kerry. "Doctor Weaver, you're joining us, right?" before Kerry had her chance to decline his offer, he took her arm, "That's great. Let's go."  
  
Luka and Abby shook their heads, amused, and led Maggie to their car, and that only left Deb with Carter. Correction, Deb with a very uneasy Carter, because he swore he saw Dave giving him an undecipherable look as he dragged poor Kerry into his car. This was definitely signaling 'not good'. Dave seemed to think...ah, who knew what Dave was thinking?  
  
Deb was staring after Dave with a puzzled look, and Carter was left to come up with something to say. "So, uh, why did you bring Kerry with you?"  
  
Deb turned to him and shrugged. "I thought she could use some company, from looks of things. Actually, I was surprised when she actually said yes to--" then she abruptly stopped, her eyes suddenly darkening, "That's not what you wanted to ask, is it?"  
  
"What?" He blinked.  
  
"What you wanted to ask was if I brought Doctor Weaver with me because I wanted to 'suck up'."   
  
His face was flushed, as if a part of what his subconscious was hiding had been raked out. "No, that's not--"  
  
He saw anger flaring in her eyes, which usually twinkled with good humor, and decided it might be better for him to just shut up. "It *was* what you were suggesting, John. You think I'm only being nice to Doctor Weaver so she will pick me." She waited, no, dared him to deny the accusation. When he wasn't able to reply, her expression slowly froze to a cold, stony one. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I do care for Doctor Weaver not just for professional reasons, and if I become Chief Resident next year, it'll be because I've *earned* it. You or anyone else can never say otherwise."  
  
She turned away with a glare that could cut steel into half, and he knew he shouldn't let her go like this. "No, Deb, wait, I mean," he was stuttering, and he never stuttered. "...that wasn't what I meant." The words tasted like ashes in his mouth.  
  
"Was it?" her voice was even and calm, and her eyes were daring him to lie.   
  
Most people would agree that he was a brilliant and intelligent man. Yet here he was, unable to find a single intelligent thing to say to his friend. He couldn't deny what she said.  
  
"I thought so," she spoke quietly, reading his expression. The disappointment in her voice was palpable, and it cut him more than her display of anger ever could. "If it makes you happier, John, I'm out too."  
  
"...What?" It was a piece of information he couldn't digest well.   
  
"Maternity leave took too much time for me to be a candidate."  
  
The thought that Deb's dream was, too, ruined--therefore he wasn't the only one who had the right to whine and grunt at Kerry--was almost unfathomable. "But I thought...I thought you were gonna make up for the lost time."  
  
"The regulations on schedule don't allow that," she said matter-of-factly, "Weaver told me today."  
  
He was completely out of words. The usual 'I'm sorry to hear that' seemed too hallow and empty to be applied to this situation.  
  
"Me too," she said flatly, leaving no room for condolences from him.  
  
This is it, he thought to himself as he watched her briskly walk away. His 'going downhill' period just ended, because now he hit the bottom with a thud.  
  
What was *wrong* with him? He was jealous of Deb's success. Okay, so that might be understandable, considering his chance was lost forever, but, his actions were childish. He should just put a sign 'jackass' across his forehead for future incidents. He sighed, picked up his gears, and headed toward the place for them to meet. He should apologize to her right away, because immaturity wasn't a particularly attractive characteristic feature to have as a friend.   
  
When he reached McGarty's, everyone was already settled in a booth, save for Kerry, who was making a phone call at the back of the cafe.  
  
"Carter, hey," Dave quickly moved to make a room for him. "I ordered some chicken fingers. That okay for you?"  
  
"Great," he answered with false enthusiasm and noticed Deb beside Dave. She was avoiding his eyes, concentrating only on her share of fries. Well, he thought, at least she hadn't hinted any urge to slap him on the face, so he should be grateful. "So," he said loudly, sitting directly in front of Maggie, who sat between Abby and Luka. He kind of liked this sitting arrangement. "What's the hot topic today?"  
  
Dave, ever the talkative one, began in almost conspiratorial tone, "What do you think is going on with Weaver today? She actually showed some initiative for social interaction with us."   
  
Deb frowned and shouldered Dave. "I invited her over. Be nice."  
  
"Hey, aren't I always?" Dave smirked, "But I mean, why's she so grumpy? Not like Weaver has any love life or anything..."   
  
Maggie picked it up, "Well, actually--"  
  
"Mom!" Abby hurriedly stopped her mother with a withering look, effectively stopping whatever information Maggie was about to reveal, then turned to Dave. "Everyone has personal problems, Malucci. Just let it be."  
  
Dave's eyes widened, understanding slowly dawning on him, "Holy, Weaver? Love life? Really?"  
  
Abby, Maggie, and Deb looked collectively uncomfortable. Okay, Carter realized, so *that* was what they were discussing at the audience bench today. Since no one seemed to feel ready to speak up, Luka took his turn. "Dave, some things are better left alone, and I think this is one of those occasions," his voice was stern, but not entirely unkind.  
  
Dave was instantly deflated. "...Right. You're right, Doctor Kovac. I was out of line."   
  
"Dave," Deb started lightly, breaking up the odd silence that had descended on them, "So, have you decided on your Porsche?" She obviously took pity on him and decided to change the topic.   
  
And it worked. Dave lightened up like a Christmas tree, "Yeah, there's this model that I like. Black or silver, I shoud think." When he began to discuss the year of the Porsche model he was currently in love with, Kerry joined them, and an elaborated discussion on auto vehicles they preferred started in a full swing. All the while, Carter began to digest the information he had heard. So Deb was out of the list too, but she was kind enough to worry about Kerry's well-being, who was apparently having a sort of troubled love life. Kerry had love life? Since when? He used to live with Kerry, and he had much respect and even affection for her, but he still didn't know much about her personal life. What did that say about him?  
  
He needed some air.  
  
He quickly excused himself and walked out to the back door, breathing deeply. The cold air woke him up a bit. He was losing control over everything, and this time, he didn't have a crazy maniac stabbing his back as an excuse for his actions. He had only himself to blame.  
  
"Humph."  
  
He heard someone coming out through the door behind him, and he quickly turned around, "Look, I'm sorry, De--"  
  
"Are you alright?" Abby asked, standing at the doorway hesitantly. Her face was marked with obvious concern for him.  
  
He froze momentarily, but recovered quickly. He was getting very good at this by now. "Yeah," he forced a grin, "I'm fine." She stared back at him for a moment, disbelieving. He gave in, "Alright, I could you some smoke, or anything to muster up some courage." To face life, he didn't say. Smoking, drinking, anything would help now. And then what? Morphine again? That was a dangerous road, one that he should never, ever, think of again. Even the last drinking rampage he had was strictly against the rules, and that was the end of it. He'd never do anything to jeopardize his recovery by getting himself cross-addicted with alcohol.   
  
But it was just too hard not to think about it. The very idea that life could get easier by depending on something else, the idea that he didn't have to be in control, was plain too attractive.  
  
Abby seemed to understand, though. She always did, because she knew how it was like. That was why he was so into her, he guessed. "I could a cigarette too, actually," she admitted as she settled beside him, "but that's a false kind of courage, don't you think?"  
  
He grinned. "At this point, I can use anything."  
  
"I really agree." She sighed, looking slightly perturbed.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, knowing this was his cue to be her adviser, her helper, her friend, or whatever she needed him to be that apparently Luka couldn't be. He took a delight in this. Maybe way too much.  
  
Abby laughed, bitterly. "What can be wrong about my life?"  
  
"Maggie seemed to be doing much better," he quickly noted, knowing there had to be only one answer, "And she seems to be getting it right this time."  
  
"She *seems*, yes. She's going to get her own life, and she wants to get better, but..." Abby faltered, her expression clouded.  
  
Carter didn't force her to continue, and only waited. He knew she wouldn't like him to be pushy or nosy in any way with her. He hade to make sure that she felt like she was in control, and he was only there for her to help. It was the technique he'd learned over the last few months in order to make her open up to him, a technique that Luka seemed to have trouble acquiring.  
  
"I'm...afraid," she went on, as she stared at some dot on the ground, "Afraid to hope. Even if she gets better, I'd be constantly wondering whether she'd fall back to her old habits. It's just, God, I can't do this any more. I just want it to end, somehow."  
  
He looked at Abby, the woman who was struggling so much with life, someone who needed his help. "My cousin," he began, "He had his problems, and I, well, I couldn't do much about it. But in the end, the only thing that seemed to matter was that I was there, and I tried to do my best. And Abby, I can say with my absolute conviction that you did your best." He dared to put his hand on her shoulder, and thankfully, she didn't pull away.  
  
"Thanks, John." Her short, but sincere answer told him he succeeded, again, in being her friend. It was so easy with Abby. He always said the right thing to her, and did the right things. Maybe he was addicted, addicted to being a listener of her problems, sharing the crises, giving a shoulder for someone to cry on rather than needing one all the time. He needed this.  
  
With Abby, he was in control. This was the only game he was able to control.  
  
So, he would see this game through the end.  
  
"Hey," a head peeked through the door, breaking the silent moment they were sharing, "What's going on?"   
  
"Nothing, Luka," Abby quickly answered, turning to her boyfriend, "Just needed some air."  
  
A brief look of something passed through Luka's face, but before Carter could name it, his expression was back to neutral. "Everyone's ready to leave. You coming?"  
  
"Sure," Carter answered, opening the door wider so Abby could get in. She grinned gratefully at him and passed his side.   
  
Yes, he would see through this game, he told himself. With Abby, he was in control.   
  
When the three reached the table, everyone was already up and out, and only Deb was picking up some napkins fallen on the chairs. It was so like her, he thought, cleaning up after people. He immediately hovered to help.  
  
"Kerry will come around," he said as he picked up the last napkin, not looking at her, "I know she will."  
  
Her sigh was loud enough to be audible. He almost thought he'd lost the chance to salvage their friendship, *again*, but after a few seconds, Deb spoke up, "I know you're disappointed your chance was taken away, but that gives you no right to take it out on me, John."  
  
"You're right," he admitted frankly and lowered his head, "I was a complete jerk. I'm sorry."  
  
Maybe he should try honesty more often, because at his answer, she slightly shook her head, anger disappearing from her expression. "I understand," she said softly, "I would've reacted the same way if the situation was reversed. Maybe more pissed, even. And," she added after a short pause, "I am really sorry. You deserved your chance."  
  
She was always there to forgive him, wasn't she? People viewed her as competitive and goal-oriented, but she was soft, too soft inside. He didn't deserve a friend like this. It wasn't right. "Some mistakes are not to be forgotten," he said, shrugging, "I guess I learned my lessons."  
  
She touched his arm and squeezed it reassuringly, sympathetic. This really wasn't right. The guilt was too much. He felt like exploiting her and her friendship. Not 'felt like'. He *was* exploiting her.  
  
"If there's anything I can do, let me know," he told her finally, to appease himself. "I mean it. I know Kerry will come around, and when she does, just remember I'm here to help. I can help you to get the position, to see the glory at the end." He added the last part with a slight grin.  
  
She arched her eyebrow. "So you can vicariously live through my success?"   
  
"Absolutely."  
  
"Then it's a deal," she promised with a grin.  
  
When they reached the exit, everyone was ready to leave. Kerry, who was talking to Luka, came to their side as soon as they got out. "Jing-Mei, can I talk to you for a second?" Kerry seemed to feel a lot better now, with her expression significantly lightened. Deb went along and began walking with Kerry, before shooting him a brief, almost nervous grin.   
  
He watched and finally smiled when the expression on Deb's face suddenly brightened several notches after Kerry said something to her. Of course, he told himself, Kerry had to come around to accept her, at least to give her a fair chance. He now had to keep the promise and live vicariously through her success, no matter how it'd sting inside.  
  
"Hey," an arm slid around his shoulder, and he found Dave standing beside him, "So how was our night-out? Wasn't so bad, huh?"  
  
Carter grinned back, "Definitely better than reading Sports Illustrated."  
  
Abby and Maggie passed them by, saying their goodbyes. He didn't miss the look Abby gave him, the one that told him, 'Thank you for today.' He returned the look.  
  
He also didn't miss the absence of a goodbye kiss between Abby and Luka.  
  
"Way better than Sports Illustrated," he muttered to himself.  
  
This game he was playing, it wasn't right, but he'd see through the end. He needed to. He wanted control. He needed Abby.  
  
Didn't he?  
  
And he wondered, for the last time, if he was chasing after the right ball.  
  
  
  
  
6/17/01  



	5. Jinx

  
Part 5: Jinx (Rampage)  
  
***  
'Illusion is the dust the devil throws in the eyes of the foolish.'  
--Minna Antrim  
**  
  
Jing-Mei never thought herself to be superstitious. Actually, she tried her best to be seen as a practical, no-nonsense person, largely because she was from the culture that was generally *thought* to be superstitious by other people, and she hated being stereotyped. However, there *was* one jinx in her life that she didn't seem to able to break; when one thing in life was going right, everything else went wrong. Once Dave summed it up pretty nicely--the universe's playing a joke on you, and hey, it has a wicked sense of humor.  
  
Today was no exception to the rule.   
  
Weaver was going to give her a chance for the Chief Resident seat, and that was the only good news. The application process was not going well, to put it mildly. The files she needed went missing, the copies she'd made disappeared into the complicated filing system of the hospital that no one seemed to be able to figure out, the people who were supposed to provide her with references were suddenly very busy, and, to add an insult to the injury, she couldn't bring herself to concentrate on her work. She had no illusions about it anyway. It was only the beginning, and she knew she'd have to keep fighting for the job. She even began to wonder if this title--the two nice big words, Chief Resident--was worth the trouble, especially after one long day filled with serious GSW victims tiding into the ER and even more frightening scare on the safety of Doctor Greene's family.  
  
And this not-so-great day began to sink even lower when she saw Doctor Greene at the corridor when her shift almost ended.  
  
"Doctor Greene?" She went over to him, a little worried. He looked way too pale, completely zoned-out. "Doctor Greene? Are you all right?" It was a stupid question, because he was definitely not all right, but she had to say *something*.  
  
Doctor Greene blinked, as if he wasn't sure what was said. "Sorry?"  
  
She offered him a small, sympathetic grin. "Maybe you should head home now, Doctor Greene. You look like you could use some sleep." If needed, she was ready to finish his shift for him. She knew he should be with his family now.  
  
"Yes, I should," he answered numbly, but he didn't move at all. He seemed to be frozezn in the moment, his face still ghastly pale. When she turned around to go about her business, not sure what else to do, Doctor Greene spoke up suddenly and bluntly, "Fossen's dead."   
  
Fossen? Her brain finally provided the answer--the gunman. "Oh." She wished she could think that his death, the loss of a life, was a terrible thing, but she couldn't. Was it so morally wrong to think it was a good thing that there was one less man going around shooting at people? Her profession was to heal people no matter who they were, but she was human, after all. "I'm glad Ella and Doctor Corday are fine," she managed to say. She didn't trust herself to say anything more.  
  
"Me too," Doctor Greene whispered to himself, "Me too."  
  
Something was wrong, she could sense it, but what? And more imfortantly, was there anything she could do? "Would you like me to tell Doctor Weaver you're leaving?" she hesitantly asked.  
  
Doctor Greene nodded, and after a long moment of slience, left. Jing-Mei felt her heart sink. Why did such horrible things happen to good people? The question had no answer, she knew, but it was always there somewhere in her mind, surfacing from time to time, bringing depression along with it.   
  
She headed toward trauma, and saw the person she was looking for. "Doctor Weaver," she called out, "Doctor Greene went..." Doctor Weaver didn't even seem to hear her as she briskly passed by. Jing-Mei had to touch her arm to get her attention. "Doctor Weaver, are you all right? You seem...pale." Everyone seemed to be today, she thought.  
  
Doctor Weaver jumped, startled. "Sorry, I was... Jing-Mei, what were you saying?"  
  
Jing-Mei repressed the urge to sigh. Great, today was the repeating-yourself-to-death day. "Doctor Greene left a bit early. I think I can cover for him for the rest of the day. Oh, and I left the peer review sheet in your office."  
  
Doctor Weaver nodded, albeit absently. Her weary look reminded Jing-Mei of the conversation they had shared at the softball game, which meant the reason for her mood was only one thing: the relationship trouble.  
  
Jing-Mei had to grin at the memory. Mothers were all the same, even with the age and race differences. As soon as she and Doctor Weaver had settled into the audience bench to observe the game, the first thing Maggie asked them was the status of their 'love life'. Jing-Mei, with much practice on the subject matter, was able to smooth over the question, but Kerry, bless her, wasn't as lucky. Kerry's rather reluctant answer was 'It's not going where I hoped it would be', and that elicited sympathetic expressions from the other women. Abby somehow retrained her mother from asking more love-life related questions, so rest of the chat had been simply about the current fashion--which proved to be a boring topic--and funny incidents from their pasts, mostly about their medical school years, in which Jing-Mei made sure to include some of John's embarrassing moments (strictly because Maggie wanted to know, honest!).  
  
Something *was* wrong with everyone today, Jing-Mei concluded as she watched Doctor Weaver leave with a completely desolated expression she'd rarely seen from the meticulous senior doctor. Jing-Mei wasn't superstitious, really, but today she felt like there was a bad karma in the air.   
  
"Jinx," she whispered to herself. After a long day, even she didn't feel particularly alive and kicking. She shouldn't have volunteered to cover for Doctor Greene when she had such a tight schedule to catch up, but the look on Doctor Greene's face... she was doing the right thing.  
  
She entered the washroom, hoping to wake herself up with some cold water, and found another doctor shakily leaning against the door.  
  
"Cleo?" She and Cleo weren't exactly friends, more like passing acquaintances, but the pediatrician looked positively sick--even more so than Doctor Greene and Weaver, actually--and it instantly worried her. "Is everything okay?" When Cleo didn't answer, she carefully ventured a guess, "Tough case?"  
  
Cleo, who had looked aloof all long, almost laughed. "Just the usual," there was a lopsided grin on her face, "I just came in contact with HIV-positive blood."  
  
Right. This just topped every other incident that happened today. What was it about jinx? Jing-Mei started out slowly, trying to conceal the horror she felt, "Did the result--"  
  
"Not yet. I'm waiting."  
  
"Right." Instead of giving her meaningless condolences and walk away as if nothing happened, Jing-Mei chose to stay with Cleo for a bit. There was no reason to discuss the chance statistics with Cleo, who knew about the disease as much as other doctors. Then what should she say to her? "So, um, how's Reese doing?" That really wasn't the best question to ask, and Jing-Mei regretted it as soon as it came out.  
  
Surprisingly, though, Cleo seemed to welcome this change of topic, almost relieved. "Better, actually. Carla's showering him with gifts right now to make him forget the 'unfortunate' accident." There was an unmistakable hint of disgust in her voice.  
  
Jing-Mei heard of the incident, too. It was hard not too, with all the screaming by Reese's mother--Carla--a few days ago. Reese had gotten hurt under Cleo's care, and Carla seemed to blame Cleo for it. Jing-Mei had seen Cleo playing with Doctor Benton's son before, and she knew Cleo genuinely cared for Reese. A casual observer might even think Reese was Cleo's, and of course, Carla could never accept that. "Accidents happen no matter what," Jing-Mei spoke with a certain amount of sympathy, "Doctor Benton will just have to understand."  
  
Cleo shrugged tiredly, "It really wasn't the best idea to date a man from the same hospital anyway. I'll say being single has to be the bless." Noticing the amused look on Deb's face, Cleo blushed. "Oh, what *am* I saying? I sound like..."  
  
"A burnt-out wife who was married for ten years, yes." Jing-Mei grinned.  
  
"Right, well, I feel like one. And I'm *very* envious of you now." Cleo grinned too, and Jing-Mei felt the weight lifting from her chest. At least this little banter was making her feel better. When they were fully immersed in the discussion on their 'being proud to be a single' pep-talk, someone else entered the washroom.  
  
And, of course, who else could this be other than... "Abby, hi," Jing-Mei hoped she didn't look as awkward as she felt right now.   
  
"Hi," Abby approached them with a slightly puzzled look on her face, "Am I interrupting something important?"  
  
Cleo waved her in. "Nah, you're welcome to join in our discussion on 'relationships' here."  
  
"Relationship, or lack there of," Jing-Mei added lightly, sensing Cleo wasn't about to talk about her possible infection.  
  
Abby seemed to relax at that, and headed to the nearest sink. "Relationships. That's a serious one. You need either an ax or Kleenex, right?"  
  
"I carry a lot of C-4, so I'm armed plenty," Cleo quipped with an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes, "Abby, you look like you have a story to tell, too."   
  
The alarm in Jing-Mei's head was suddenly glowing in red, and she automatically eyed the door. If she was going to hear Abby's vivid accounts of what was happening between her and Doctor Kovac--*and* with John--she might just as well have to bolt. What *was* it about jinx again?  
  
"I don't know," was Abby's frustrated and frank answer, which surprised Jing-Mei somewhat. Abby, Cleo, her...all of them were private people who wouldn't open up to each other in a hospital washroom of all the places, but the mood they were sharing now was demanding them to be honest with each other, almost like a confession time. So, this is what a Girl Talk is supposed to be like? Jing-Mei wondered with a weary grin.  
  
"You don't know, or you don't want to know?" Cleo asked curiously. It seemed like Cleo wanted to occupy her thoughts with something else than HIV-infection, and Jing-Mei couldn't really fault her for that.  
  
"Both, actually," Abby answered almost casually, but her expression was instantly shadowed. Jing-Mei wondered, very briefly, what Abby was thinking about, or if it had anything to do with John at all.   
  
Of course it had to be. Jinx, Jing-Mei sighed inwardly.   
  
Abby, for her part, looked genuinely troubled, "It's just that I'm not sure which is more important, what I want, or what I...need."   
  
Jing-Mei wanted to shut her brain down for the moment, because she didn't want to analyze that statement. She had already seen Abby and John coming back from a break today, together, and the look on his face told her many things, and Abby's, even more. She didn't want to know, but she already knew. John must've told Abby what he had to say, and now Abby had to make her decision.  
  
"You know what I think?" Jing-Mei found herself saying, "I think what you need has to be more important." Abby needed John, Jing-Mei knew, and she also knew that she was nudging Abby toward John's direction by saying this. But what were friends for, really?  
  
"I agree," Cleo concurred, "What we want usually comes in later after the needs have been met, right?" After a short pause, she added with a hint of humor, "Hey, did I sound like a marriage counselor to you?"  
  
Both Abby and Jing-Mei instantly smiled. "Yep, you're degrading," said Jing-Mei with a playful grin.  
  
"Could've been worse, like a divorce counselor, which I'm sure I'd be good at." Cleo slowly straightened up, her expression now laced with a grim look. "I think I better go to hear my verdict now. I'll see you guys...around."  
  
Jing-Mei and Abby watched after her with varying degrees of worried look, both unable to come up with anything reassuring to tell her. After Cleo walked out, Jing-Mei let out a sigh. Bad things always happened to good people, and everything reminded her that there was nothing she could do about it. When Jing-Mei looked up, she found Abby staring at her a little uneasily.  
  
"Well, um..." Abby hesitated, as if wondering how she should address her. She didn't seem to be comfortable with calling her by her first name just yet.  
  
"Jing-Mei," she supplied with a supportive grin.  
  
"Right, Jing-Mei," Abby grinned back, but the nervous fidgeting was still there, "Well, you know John...Carter, right?"  
  
"Ah, yes, unfortunately," Jing-Mei answered with humor, because Abby now seemed to realize her question had to sound stupid. Of course she knew John. Jing-Mei wondered where this was heading. Abby was usually very reserved about her personal life, and Abby was close to her as much as Cleo was, if not less, so this was a rather curious turn of events. "What about John?" she encouraged.  
  
After seemingly a long moment of debating herself, Abby asked, "Has he mentioned anything about leaving to Northwestern's ER?"  
  
John was considering leaving? That was a surprising bit of information that Jing-Mei knew *nothing* about. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be shocked, angry, or even envious that Abby knew and she didn't. "No, he hasn't said anything to me yet," she carefully answered, "Did he say he was going to?"  
  
"He said he was thinking about it." Abby seemed to regret even bringing up the subject, but there was also obvious relief in her voice, as if she hadn't been able to discuss this with anyone else, and she was glad to let it out from her chest. After a short pause, she amended, "If he hasn't told you about it yet, maybe he isn't seriously considering it."  
  
Jing-Mei thought it was nice that Abby believed John would talk to her about all the important things, although that belief was seriously misplaced. Did John really tell her everything? Not really. "If he *is* serious," she answered after a minute of contemplation, "then I'm sure he'll mention it to you again before anyone else."   
  
Abby stiffened at that, just a little. Jing-Mei guessed Abby must be wondering how much she knew about John's feeling for Abby. And since Abby just showed that she cared for John --as a friend or as something more, Jing-Mei didn't know and didn't care--, Jing-Mei no longer wanted to skirt around the issue. "Abby, if you want him to stay, just tell him so. He will listen to you. Trust me on that one."  
  
Jing-Mei walked to the sink, washed her hand, and grabbed paper towel, and all the while, she didn't spare any glance at Abby, but she could guess that Abby had to be staring at her. She was doing the right thing for John and Abby. They needed each other, and the sooner they realize that, the better. Also, if Abby wanted make John stay--which she could--then the County wouldn't lose one of its finest doctors.  
  
And she, Jing-Mei Chen, wouldn't lose one of her closest friends.   
  
So what if her advice to Abby hadn't been out of pure altruism? All of them would be happy, except probably for Doctor Kovac. But, honestly, who could keep on loving his girlfriend who needed someone else's shoulder to rely on rather than his?  
  
"Jing-Mei," Abby called out when she was about to leave. "Do you really think...what you need is more important than what you want?" Abby's question was seriously measured, and it asked for the truth from her.  
  
Honesty with honesty, the truth with the truth. She owed Abby that much. "That's what I do, going for what I need, not what I want. I don't know if it works, but I guess that's all I can offer." Jing-Mei gave her short, self-deprecating smile and left Abby alone in the washroom.   
  
It was about 8 pm, and ER was surprisingly deserted for the most parts. She walked slowly to the reception desk to check Doctor Greene's patient lists, strolling in the empty space by herself. She felt almost peaceful, too, if she didn't dwell on thinking about what had just happened. She was certain that if she was thinking straight right now, if she wasn't seriously sleep-deprived, or if there was no jinx or bad karma in the air, she would have been able to laugh at the irony, that she of all people was the one who counseled Abby on her complicated love life.   
  
But right now she was too tired to care about any of that.  
  
Someone tapped her shoulder when she was trying to take out Doctor Greene's files. She turned around.  
  
"Deb?" John Truman Carter--a fellow doctor, her longtime friend, someone she cared about very much, and someone she *really* didn't want to talk to right now--called out, his hand on her arm. "You okay?"  
  
For a second, she was tempted to answer him with 'Oh, dandy, really, 'Cause I just advised Abby to dump Doctor Kovac, who, by the way, I very much respect, over you. How're ya doing? Planning to leave County yet?', but she decided to go with a mumbling "Fine", which would give her the chance to slip away from him and quickly walk away.  
  
But he wasn't about to let her get away that easily. Jinx, she clenched her teeth. "You look like a walking corpse right now, and I have to say it's not a good look for you," he stepped in front of her, blocking her escape route, "When was the last time you had some sleep?"  
  
The problem was, when he was paying attention to things other than Abby, John could be a sickeningly sweet and attentive friend. It was usually the quality she most appreciated from him, but right now she found it extremely irritating. "I'm fine, John," she willed herself not to snap at him, "Just a long day."  
  
"You're pushing yourself too hard," he observed, concern marked on his face. "You look too pale."  
  
Pale? Oh, for crying out loud. There had to be some kind of sick humor in this, she decided, but it wasn't all that funny. She began, "John, look--" then she had to stop, seeing a woman entering ER with a bleeding hand. She looked familiar, almost like... "Minhae?" she rushed to her friend, completely ignoring John who came running behind her, "What happened?"  
  
Minhae looked up, pressing her left hand in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. "Oh, Jing-Mei, am I glad to see you," she let out a relieved sigh, "Can you do something about this? It just won't stop."  
  
Jing-Mei quickly led her friend from her high school, the only one she'd been keeping in touch, to the nearest available bed. "What happened?" she asked.  
  
"I cooked," Minhae grunted.  
  
Jing-Mei wasn't sure if she should laugh or groan. "Min, the last time you cooked was like two years ago..."  
  
"...yes, yes, I know. And no, I didn't burn down the house this time. What can I say? I was feeling rather adventurous today."  
  
Jing-Mei just shook her head, getting ready to clean up the cut. Minhae's clumsiness was beyond her understanding.  
  
"Who's your friend?" a voice suddenly came from behind her, and Jing-Mei almost jumped.  
  
"God, John, don't do that." She shot him a glare, but he only shrugged with his boyish I-could-do-no-wrong grin, while giving Minhae a rather curious glance. So he wanted to be introduced. Why wasn't that surprising? "Min, this is Dr. Carter," Jing-Mei spoke to both of them, "John, this is Minhae Kim, a *very* famous novelist who thinks she's the best there is."  
  
"You flatter me, Jing-Mei. And that's why I like you," Minhae quipped, and turned to John, "Hello, Doctor Carter. I didn't know Jing-Mei had a doctor friend like you." Minhae was already appraising him like in a bachelor auction.  
  
John replied back smoothly, "I didn't know Deb has a friend like you either, so I'll call it fair."  
  
Jing-Mei rolled her eyes. If she let them go on, they'd be picking out china patterns in no time. "I think it's a good time for me to remind you that you're very much taken, Min, and thou shall not flirt with any man who's breathing other than Jeff." She almost added 'And since you're not a blonde or a certain brunette, you don't count for John', but she restrained the urge.  
  
"Spoilsport. You're no fun." Minhae pouted, but adorably. Jing-Mei had to smile. Minhae was a good friend that she hadn't been able to spare time for, and she was glad to meet her, even under this kind of circumstance. The day was, finally, beginning to look up.  
  
John went passed Jing-Mei and looked over Minhae's hand. "It's not serious, but you'll need simple stitches. I'll do it."  
  
Jing-Mei was ready to protest, but John gave her a stern look that said he knew she was about to collapse. It was better not to fight John in his protective mode, so she obediently sat beside Minhae. "How's Jeff, Min? And how's the new book coming out?"   
  
"Jeff's wonderful. He's out of town on a business trip right now. And the book, ow," she grimaced as John started to clean up the cut, "Well, the book's been a pain for a while. I've been working on a same scene for a week, and it's still not working out."  
  
"What's it about?" John asked, like every doctor did to their patient to distract them from the pain they might feel.  
  
"It's a historical fiction about an ancient Korean dynasty," Minhae explained, and Jing-Mei didn't miss the look of passion that passed across Minhae's face whenever she talked about her story. She had read Min's first published book, at first out of obligation, then after reading a chapter, out of pure fascination. Her friend knew how to carry on a good narration with enough suspense and historical accuracy in the mix.  
  
"What's giving you the trouble?" asked Jing-Mei.  
  
"Relationships," Minhae cringed, "Everything always comes down the same thing: why? Why do we do things that we do? That's the hardest and the most interesting part of writing historical fiction--interpreting the behaviors based on facts and give them reasons. And when it comes to love, it's just fantastically insane, the things they--we--do."  
  
Jing-Mei couldn't agree more.  
  
Meanwhile, John had been working fast. He finished cleansing and covered Minhae's hand with bandage. "There, as good as new."  
  
"So, what now, doctor?" Minhae asked, "Would I be able to type any time soon?"  
  
John pretended to think about it before replying, "Probably, just be careful when you're using knives next time. And I recommend take-out for a week."  
  
"Good." Minhae looked happy. "I'm not complaining about *that*."  
  
"How are you getting home?" Jing-Mei asked Minhae when John pushed away the tray. With the injured hand, she wouldn't be able to drive. "If Jeff's not home..."  
  
"Why don't you drive her home?" John quickly suggested, "And you should go home, too, Deb. You should rest."  
  
Jing-Mei ignored the arched-eyebrow look Minhae gave her at John's 'Deb', and spoke emphatically, "John, I *am* fine. If you tell me that one more time, *I*'m going to burn something."  
  
If John was going to say something to persuade her again, she was never going to hear it, because Abby appeared behind him. "John? Can I talk to you?"  
  
John turned around, slightly surprised to see Abby there. He then looked back at Jing-Mei, guiltily. "I..."  
  
"Go ahead, I'll finish off," Jing-Mei said quickly, already taking over. "Go." She gave him an encouraging smile.  
  
John hesitated for less than a second before leaving with Abby. Jing-Mei noticed that, even though Abby looked uneasy, there was definitely a look of determination in her face. She'd made her decision, and it concerned John more than Doctor Kovac. It seemed that Abby finally figured it out; she didn't want John to leave. It was very good news for John, and not so good news for Doctor Kovac.  
  
And what about you, Jing-Mei asked herself. What is this to you, good news or bad news?  
  
"Jinx," she told herself. "Just jinx, that's all."  
  
"What?" Minhae asked, staring at her strangely.  
  
Had she said that out loud? Jing-Mei sheepishly explained, "It's my jinx day. You remember? When one thing goes right--"  
  
Minhae finished for her, "--everything else goes wrong, I know, I know, the famous jinx of yours. But I'd say there's nothing you can't fix with a good night's sleep and some rest, which, like that doctor said, you really need."  
  
Jing-Mei gave her friend a weary grin. "I think I'd know what *I* need, Min."  
  
"Well, not really. It's usually the opposite. People don't know what they *really* need until it's too late. It's sad, I think."  
  
So what? Jing-Mei didn't want bad things to happen to good people, and if one more good person was going to have better days from now on, she was going to be happy for him. That was all there was. And she didn't need John in her life other than as a friend. She didn't need any more complication. She *knew* she didn't need him, and that was enough.  
  
She finished off the rest of the work, and Minhae waited for her. Jing-Mei got a suspicion that Minhae was waiting for her not because she wanted a ride home, but because she wanted to make sure that her friend was going home and get some sleep.   
  
As soon as Jing-Mei got out from the locker room, Minhae came to her side, her injured hand seemingly already forgotten. Typically, Minhae began discussing her newest story, but somewhere along the line--probably after the third Korean prince began to take over the empire and start building a bigger one--Jing-Mei was no longer listening, thinking about something else entirely.  
  
"....I mean if you're in love with someone, why would you let anything, let anyone, get in your way?"  
  
"What?" Jing-Mei blinked, suddenly realizing what was just said.  
  
"The story, Jing-Mei. I still have to build this character and the reason he'd let her go. I mean, why did he? If he was the man that the history says he was, then he shouldn't have. He should've had the courage to hold on to what he wanted." While giving her the explanation, Minhae regarded her carefully with her perceptive eyes. Jing-Mei didn't like that. Minhae was too perceptive--as a requirement of a good writer--to miss anything that was going around her, and she wasn't just asking about what she thought about a historic figure. She was asking what Jing-Mei thought about her own choices. "Why do you think he did that?" Minhae asked again.  
  
Jing-Mei saw her answer at the exit, where John was standing with Abby with a content smile. There was that awkwardness between the two of them that could only exist when a relationship just began, but they were happy anyway. She briefly wondered where Doctor Kovac might be at this moment, but they didn't seem to care about that either.  
  
"Because," Jing-Mei asnwered to her friend, "that was the right thing to do."  
  
Jing-Mei smiled, despite the fatigue, despite the damn jinx that'd been plaguing her all day, despite the fact that she wanted nothing but to break down right at this moment. Despite everything, she smiled, because she knew she did the right thing today.  
  
And that was good enough.   
  
It had to be.  
  
  
06/23/01  
Rest assured. This isn't the end yet. ;)  



End file.
